


Bombur and The Cookie Jar

by phantomessangel



Series: Mirkwood Musings [1]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Cookies, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-31
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-17 17:50:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1396960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomessangel/pseuds/phantomessangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bofur muses about Bombur's affinity for impatience after the fall in the river.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bombur and The Cookie Jar

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little one-shot that popped into my head. Hope you enjoy it.

“The big lummox!”

Bofur rolled his eyes towards his currently unconscious brother, watching the rise and fall of his round chest, buried beneath the thick red braid that wound its way around Bombur’s shoulders and neck.

The fool.

Part of him was concerned. It was his brother after all.

Part of him, though, wanted to smack the great brute upside the head.

“Fallin’ in the lake because ye were too impatient,” He muttered towards his snoring companion, his heart giving a strange jerk.

This forest had been driving them mad enough, as it was, and the poor dwarf was starving and impatient. All he wanted was to get out, to see sunlight again, to—and Bofur smiled wryly—eat something again.

But, of course, Bombur had never been particularly patient when it came to food.

Bofur patted his brothers snoring form softly, gazing towards the other members of the company who were huddled together, their forms weary and exhausted.

“Never could wait for a decent meal, could ye?”

No, no Bombur could not.

He remembered one moment in particular…

“Oi what do ye think yer doin’?! Da’s not gonna be happy with ye,” Bofur’s squeaky voice called up to the round dwarfling clamoring onto the table.

The overly large hat that sat atop his head dipped over his eyes as he scrambled after his brother.

Da was never happy when Bombur stole food.

“I’m hungry!” Bombur wailed softly, with a grunt as he hoisted himself higher, towards the large jar that sat atop the highest shelf above the table.

The cookie jar.

Bofur sighed, “But the last time ye did this, Da was right furious! Ye cann’t think he’ll be too happy with ye again.”

Bombur stopped with a sigh and gave a small nod to his brother.

“I know,” the young dwarf’s voice was low, “Yes I know, but I’m just…”

A small smile broke its way across the rounded cheeks and the already fluffy beard the pudgy dwarfling was sporting.

“But, I’ll share,” he hummed softly, “It’s ma’s butternut cookies. Your favorite.”

Bofur’s own small tummy gave a low growl of approval at the thought of the butternut cookies.

They were delicious.

He eyed the big jar looming overhead and the way Bombur’s small , round face was alight with persuasive glee.

Bofur started to clamor after his brother, his hat briefly covering his eyes.

Those cookies were delicious.

Working together, the two of them managed to haul a chair on top of the table, Bofur toddling up afterwards with Bombur climbing up after his brother, shimmying onto Bofur’s shoulders…

Bofur shook his head and smiled, coming back to the present.

He should have known then that Bombur climbing on HIS shoulders was a bad idea.

“Bofur?”

The hatted dwarf turned towards their resident hobbit-burglar with a small grin.

“Aye lad?” He questioned, gazing at Bilbo, whose hands were wringing together, concern on his face.

“How is he?”

Bofur smiled again, softer this time, “I wager he’s alright, the dolt. Just sleepin’ far as anyone can tell.”

He winked at Bilbo.

“Don’t ye fret, he’ll be right as rain. I’m sure of it.”

The hobbit nodded softly, though he appeared unconvinced.

Bofur sighed, “Don’t ye fret lad,” He remarked, “This isn’t the first time Bombur’s gone and got himself in trouble.”

The wry grin returned to the dwarf’s face.

“In fact,” he remarked, “I was jus thinkin’ about the time when we were kids and Bombur convinced me to steal cookies with ‘im.”

Bilbo sat near the dwarf, eyes intent, a small smile on his face.

Ah, that was better.

“Cookies, eh?”Bilbo remarked, “I imagine that didn’t end too well?”

Bofur chuckled, “No indeed. The lummox convinced me to be his post while he climbed on my shoulders to reach the jar.”

Bilbo snorted in amusement.

Bofur only nodded, “Aye it’s true. Not my brightest hour, mind. And then, the clumsy oaf had to go and topple the entire jar of cookies, takin’ us with it.”

Bofur cast a glance towards his snoring brother.

“Bombur and the jar went one way and I another. Next thing I know I see the great round baby wailin’ ‘cause he’s gone and got his head stuck in the cookie jar.”

The hatted dwarf chuckled at the images in his mind.

‘It’s dark!’ Bombur had wailed, ‘Ma! Ma! It’s dark!’

It had taken his Ma and Da a good half hour, and a tub of grease to free Bombur’s head from that jar…

“Ruined all the cookies,” Bofur mumbled, with a grin, “Aye, he’s a foolish one. Always has been.”

He smiled at Bilbo.

“But he’s my brother jus’ the same. And he’ll be alright. Just ye wait.’


End file.
